Summer
by Aestivate
Summary: Max felt compelled to go back to the States. There was something he had to do, and that was to confess his apparent feelings for Emily. She may be smart, but how does one these tender affairs of the heart? The thing is, Max is running out of time... MaxEm
1. Heat and Headaches

**Summer**

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by Aestivate

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Author's Note: There are instances in which I will change from "Max" to "Makkusu" or "Emily" to "Emili", as to show what language the person speaking is. They are merely Romanized versions of their name (from the Katakana), but I want to keep the Japanese and the English separate. All reviews going against my view of this pairing will be deleted, no questions asked.

**Most of this fic was written last year and I finally got around to do some hardcore editing. Forgive the lack of talent that comes with premature writing.**

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Max Mizuhara gave a huge sigh. He had a headache, it was annoying and it hindered him from doing anything productive that afternoon. Shame, really, he really wanted to tinker around with his Attack ring for a while... He peered outside his window, rubbing his forehead unconsciously, looking down to the daily bustle of a New York City day, as looking down was the only logical way to see the world, as his mother's penthouse apartment was on the top floor. His mother had agreed for him to stay with her for the summer.

It was hot, almost breathlessly so. This summer had actually felt like summer, compared to the previous years. It didn't bother him though. Japan's summers were a lot warmer, and this was nothing compared to there. Speaking of Japan...

Max's clear blue eyes wandered toward a photograph on his desk, and he remembered his friends. The original members of one of the teams where his loyalties lay, G-Revolutions... The determined yet cocky Takao... The balanced, intense, yet not unkind Rei... Computer geek but lovable Kyouju... The rigid, though wise Kai...

He recalled their last conversation together with fondness.

_"Why are you going back there, Max?" Takao asked. He looked skeptical, why wouldn't he be? They were all back in Japan, a little over a year since they received their league back... Why would Max want to go back to the states now? Max nodded, his straw colored hair bobbing. The smile that was plastered on his face had worn off ages ago. He thought fleetingly of a girl... "There's stuff I have to take care of."_

_"Like what?" demanded Takao heatedly._

_"Takao!" Hiromi warned._

_"Just some... stuff. I won't be long, I promise," said Max, the grin returning as quickly as it had left. His blue eyes shone with a set determination. "I'LL COME BACK SOON!"_

_He whirled around, running off to his father's car, waving back as he ran._

_In shaky English, accented, unlike Max's clean tongue, Hiromi, Takao, Kyouju, and Rei replied, "YOU BETTER!"_

_There were smiles on all of their faces - even Kai's._

The sun was setting on the Kinomiya Dojo that afternoon, Max recalled, a large orange sun with purple streaking the sky like a surreal painting. But that afternoon, nothing shone brighter than the love for his friends in Max's heart. This wasn't like a normal parting, he knew by the time he was back he would be different, feel different, be all around different.

He shouldn't have come back to the states, there was nothing here but disappointment anyway. His so called 'stuff' was not done, he couldn't do it, couldn't say it...  
Max's head pounded dully. He shut the blinds of his room, which although shut out the sun and the sight of the zipping people and cars, did not shut out the sounds of horns beeping in the distance, or the thudding in his temple. He thought of doing some of his summer homework, but the humidity made him lethargic, so he put down his pencil and flopped unceremoniously onto his bed.

He'd been like this ever since he arrived. Two weeks was a pretty long time for someone to mope around in. Not like he was moping, anyway. Lately he'd just been... lost in thought, which was a better way to put it. But thinking about her made his breath quicken, made his chest constrict, made his gut wrench - feelings like this only grew from age. At seventeen and a champion Beyblader, he thought he'd have it easy - but the hardest battles he'd ever faced were nothing like this. The worst pain in the world did not match this. It wasn't pain, exactly. It was more like... Max couldn't place it. But something lifted every time she was with him, her spunky tennis built body making him feel like he was incompetent, inferior to her beauty. Every amount of working out wouldn't match Emily's perfection. _Strategy, Max, strategy. Figure out what to say to her, first,_ Max told himself._ No, you idiot. That's always how you do things. Do things impulsively for once. Think Takao. You don't need to think to tell her how you feel, just DO IT!  
Easy for you to say,_ Max wanted to yell back at himself.

A trickle of sweat found its way down the side of his head. He sat up, was greeted with a thud from his headache, and his back was damp. Summer really was a blessing. Not. Except arguing with yourself was hard in its own right.

Max wandered toward his desk again and pulled out his Beyblade. He clutched his Draciel to his chest, as if asking, "Draciel, what should I do?" Max stared at his Beyblade for a while, and for the first time he was disappointed in it. The Holy Beast it contained seemed to always answer his questions, make him feel confident, but it seemed that even Draciel was at a loss for what to do. Max peered at it for a moment longer, and felt his eyes droop. He glanced at the clock. It was early, too early for someone to feel tired.

It had been two weeks, and he still wasn't used to the time difference. Max used to be so good adjusting to jet lag, being jettisoned from Japan to the states and back again. Someone knocked on his door, and Dr. Judy entered with a suspicious smile on her face.

"Hello, Max."

"Mom? What are you doing home so early? I thought you would be at the lab all day," Max said, his own smile forming on his lips."I just wanted to come see you. It's my lunch hour, after all. How's your headache? Did you get the chance to modify your Beyblade?" Dr. Judy asked, her maternal instinct surfacing.

Max gave a groan and flopped backward on his bed next to his mother, who had sat down just moments earlier. "Pounding, and I haven't been able to get anything done," he informed her, sighing loudly. "It's alright though," he added. Quickly sitting up again, he turned, staring at his curtained window.

Dr. Judy opened her mouth to say something. Instinct told her that Max hadn't come just to spend a summer with her, that much she knew. She also noticed the drawn, longing face of her son. There was a hint of sadness in those eyes, but also a blazing look of determination locked beneath them. There was an internal struggle, Dr. Judy could see, as mothers knew everything about their children. Except really, Max wasn't a child anymore. He was a man now, she knew it the moment she saw it the second she saw Max at the plane terminal.

She played with words in her mind for a second. Maybe it was a girl. She raised her brow. If that was the case, he would have said so. Was there trouble with friends? She shook her head. If she asked that, Max would be suspicious that his mother was suspicious. Or something along the like. But what to ask? She was concerned of course, but nothing seemed right. Words that were best left unsaid died on her tongue if not in her head.

"Are you... alright?" Yes, that was the right thing to ask.

Max turned around and grinned. "You worry too much. I'm sure I'll be fine after I eat." He jumped up and bolted out the door.

Dr. Judy cursed herself for overlooking Max's physical health. That was obviously a factor here, right? Maybe jet lag was making him sick. But then again, who had jet lag for two weeks? And yet... she had noticed dark circles under his eyes. And he hadn't asked to go to the research facility since he'd been back. That was odd. There was something Max was avoiding, and something he wasn't saying. Or maybe Max was right, and she did worry too much. But her mother's intuition had yet to fail her, so why should it fail now? She chuckled, in spite of herself. Shaking her head, she too rose from the bed and headed toward the kitchen, where she saw Max sitting at the table patiently, the characteristic smile rooted to his face, which was a good sign.  
"What would you like to eat? I only have a half an hour on my lunch break, so it has to be quick," said Dr. Judy, quickly getting to the point.

Max was about to open his mouth and say "Wudong noodles, please", but remembered he was in the states, which proved he hadn't seen much in the time he was here. Mainly, he was at the Statue of Liberty and across the River in Edgewater, at the stretch between the ferry and Whole Foods, just watching the river flowing. Max always loved the Hudson River, it seemed to keep secrets deep within its banks. It was always peaceful there, with people minding their own businesses, and the sweet riverside air, as well as the sort of mystical power the river had that let the person let himself go, and think of things that had meaning in life. The person would lose himself, into a dream world that only the river's powers could muster.

That was the power of the Hudson. It was much calmer than the commute between Jersey and the city, than the bustling streets and the people-filled sidewalks, than the dismal streets of the Bronx, and the many lights of Broadway, the action and movement of Chinatown. Max remembered every detail, as they were a part of his life and were imprinted in the tapestry of his mind. He liked being in New Jersey, watching the Hudson from that side of the river, because of the luscious quiet. Max remembered watching the Hudson and wondering how long it took for it to reach the ocean, and could almost feel the breeze from the ferry lapping against his face. But that memory changed... Into stepping out of the La Guardia airport to a welcoming crowd of faces. It nagged at him that the first face he saw was Emily's smiling one, greeting him back to America... Through the years, she'd really changed. She'd grown up and was much kinder to people in general. And no, that wasn't right either. Hold habits die hard; therefore she maintained a status quo in that respect. But different, in so many ways. Max realized, too, how differently he thought about her.

Max couldn't help picturing her amethyst eyes... Or were they more blue? He mused to himself about this, and wondered how they looked so close that they met his, and was only a fraction away from his face... Looking at his own eyes lovingly, tenderly, yet with a strong sense of pride... The way only Emily would be able to. He wondered how her fiery hair would feel if he would ever stroke it. Would those unruly strands be coarse, yet yielding, or silky soft, yet proud? How the curves her built body and her skin felt against his own, while her lips brushed against his ear as she whispered words he longed to hear... It seemed erotic, wonderful, something he wanted, and just like that, he was on the road to becoming as hard as a rock.

Max shook his head, then blushed, attempting to adjust the fly of his jeans. His thoughts had wandered off track. No. If he wanted a relationship, he wanted to remain pure to it. But there was something about Emily that made him want those things, and more. That was to be expected. But he couldn't help but think of her and also think of the receding Hudson, and the sun's golden rays washing over her body, a smile playing on her face, drawing him near her, and he obliging her welcome.

Emily. How they'd gotten off to a bad start. Max shook his head once more. He knew the reason he came back to the states, but he didn't know why this was the reason. Especially since every part of him seemed to want to shrivel up and crawl under the nearest rock when compared to her. He always had feelings for the most unlikely candidates. But... Emily seemed so, so perfect. In ways that Mariam wasn't, the girl Max always thought he'd come to... have feelings for. But they evaporated with his adolescence, though Max still couldn't put together a conclusion that started these strong feelings for Emily. Was it... because of her uncanny similarity to him once he got to know her? Or... the spirit that brought him to the states from Japan, just to confess his feelings for her? But that was triggered by something. Or maybe just meeting and knowing her grew into these...

"Max, Max, earth to Max."

Blinking twice, feeling quite confused and disoriented, Max snapped back into the reality without Emily and was hurled back into his kitchen. "Oh, what?"

"I said, what do you want to eat? We're dwindling to about twenty five minutes here," Dr. Judy said. Her tone grew serious. "Are you alright, Max? Your spirits seem lower than usual, and you're not acting... how should I put this, normal. What do you see in that dream world of yours?"

Max's automatic answer would have been _"Emily,"_ but he stopped himself before he could blurt  
out the forbidden name. "I'm fine, really. I think it's just culture shock," he lied. He quickly added guiltily, "I'm sorry for wasting your time." His gaze wandered off to the kitchen windows, which were large and faced east, to welcome the morning sun rise and the moon peeking through the clouds at night.

"Max, what's up with you? " Dr. Judy was beginning to lose her temper. "I'm tired of you spacing out and not answering when I'm talking to you. Tell me, what's on your mind? You hardly come out of your room and you haven't practiced Beyblading since you got here. And here I thought Beyblading was your life. What's going on in that head of yours?"

Once again, Max's mind quickly told him to say _"Emily_" but his gut shut his brain up and he replied quickly, "It is. I care a lot about Beyblading. It is a big part of my life. There's nothing wrong, really, Mom. I'm fine, honest. You don't have to worry. I'm just... preoccupied, that's all."

Dr. Judy's gaze softened. "Is it anything you can talk to me about?"

Max thought fleetingly of talking about Emily with his mother and shook his head rapidly, his face hot with embarrassment. "You wouldn't understand."

Dr. Judy gave a soft "Oh," and continued. "I see. Anyway, I'll toss together a salad. We're dwindling on twenty minutes, maybe less." But her eyes never left her son, as it troubled her to see him this way.

Max longed for his friends, longed to speak to them. It was so comforting to speak to them, and in this world without them, Max felt lonely. "Mom? Can I give a call to Takao and the others tonight?"

Dr. Judy raised her brow. "Long distance calls are expensive."

"I know - I won't be long, I promise."

"Ten minutes sound reasonable to you?" Dr. Judy asked, opening the kitchen to take out some ingredients.  
Max's face fell. He wanted enough time to be able to speak to everyone. "Fifteen," he reasoned.

"Fine," said Dr. Judy, giving in almost too willingly, much to Max's astonishment.

"Thanks, Mom" Max cried, jumping up and throwing his arms around her.

"Sit down, lunch is almost ready," Dr. Judy instructed, almost indifferent. He sat down obediently, a bright smile on his face. She relaxed a bit and even smiled in seeing Max so happy. She reasons she would have nothing else to worry about - maybe the only reason Max seemed so down was because he missed his friends. He would always have friends here among his teammates, but Dr. Judy knew that his old teammates meant the most to him - they were his best friends and were his first team, after all.

In the middle of loud chewing due to the hard American lettuce (compared to Japanese lettuce anyway, Max noticed), Max opened his mouth to speak, found it too full, chewed, swallowed, and finally managed to get out what he wanted to say: "Mom, can I go back to work with you after lunch? I want to see everyone and want to hear their input on how to increase Draciel's momentum." And, of course, he wanted to see Emily. Maybe the rest of his teammates thought he was avoiding them - he wouldn't want that. No matter how foolish he felt being here, they were still his friends and they deserved the right to ask questions if they wanted to. After all, they hadn't seen Max since they saw him at the airport terminal. Dr. Judy was surprised by his question. Why now? Max had already waited two weeks, and this sudden outburst was a bit odd. Though, being a mother, she didn't question it. "Of course. But... what is this sudden interest in the lab?"

Max was in mid-bite and nearly choked. "Um, t-to increase the power of my Beyblade. I need my teammates' insight. It's been years. Draciel HMS needs upgrading."

"Alright then... But I have a meeting to go to, so I won't be able to chaperone."

"That's fine, there's no problem. I'll just be at the training center anyway."

"Then it's settled. Grab a coat," said Dr. Judy briskly, whisking away the dishes.

"Wh-what?" A coat, in this blistering heat?

"Lab coat, lab coat. Come on, we have to go, or else I'll be late for my meeting." She walked over to the thermostat. "I'll turn on the air conditioning so we can go home to a nice, cool apartment."

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_To be continued_


	2. Proposals

**Summer**

* * *

by Aestivate

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Author's Note: There are instances in which I will change from "Max" to "Makkusu" or "Emily" to "Emili", as to show what language the person speaking is. They are merely Romanized versions of their name (from the Katakana), but I want to keep the Japanese and the English separate. All reviews going against my view of this pairing will be deleted, no questions asked.

**Most of this fic was written last year and I finally got around to do some hardcore editing. Forgive the lack of talent (extreme lack of talent) that comes with premature writing.**

Regarding this chapter: I forgot to stick a disclaimer on the previous chapter, so I'll make it known that there's a minuscule disclaimer at the end of the previous chapter that is much larger and bolder at the bottom of this one.

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Minutes later, mother and son were packed into the car (with the air conditioning cranked up high). Max reached forward to turn on the radio, and it took a moment to register with what was on it. "I forgot I wasn't in Japan for a moment," he admitted. He really liked this one Japanese song that was popular in Japan now - it was called "Cheer Song." He wasn't surprised that only American music (doubling with the fact that he knew nothing about it) was played on the radio. Just a bit... taken aback, that was all. It wasn't as if Makiyo or some other famous singer would appear on an American radio station. He flipped off the radio and took a deep breath, which was a bit hard to do in this humidity.

They made it to the border of the river, with a little walkway next to the freshly tarred roads to look into the faces beyond the sun kissed waters that were watching from afar. Max could see the two cities behind the bridge, there was Fort Lee just beyond the bridge and Edgewater's ferry dock, a twin to Manhattan's own ferry dock. Ripped and water-beaten posters floated with the wind and landed at the feet to those who cared enough and bothered to pick them up and read them. There were Beystadium dishes on the walkway, Max could see, and there was a swell of pride in his chest when he saw little children - some at ages no more than three or four - were holding their EZ Shooters and attempting to launch their child size Beyblades into battle against each other. Max took out his own Beyblade and glanced at Draciel, the sense of pride not once letting go of his chest.

After a while, it was clear that the large Beyblade shaped building was soon drawing closer. With her own private parking space, Dr. Judy quickly parked and quickly leapt out of her car with Max following slowly. It was just too hot to be moving around so quickly. With his mom dashed away somewhere, Max found himself alone in the lobby massive building. He knew the way around, however, how many times had he scaled the building with his teammates, planning and talking strategies and improvements?

He walked the hallways unconsciously, not taking in any kind of detail of it in any way or form. It seemed almost automatic now, his feet and legs took him to the Training area before his mind registered where exactly he was going.

"Max!"

Max's heart leapt. He turned toward the source of the sound, grinning as he immediately located three of his teammates sitting on the baseball diamond - Michael, Rick, and... Emily."Haven't seen you in a while, Max. What have you been doing, avoiding us?" Rick accused lightly.

"Hey guys!" Max cried, running up to his friends. All of them welcomed him cheerfully, wrapping him in a hug, which was uncharacteristic, but a friendly gesture all the same.

"You're just in time," drawled Emily. "Rick and I were just about to have a practice match." From behind her, she pulled out her tennis racket shooter. Her glasses flashed competitively, as she stole a glance at Rick, which screamed "I won't lose." Rick returned it readily, pulling out his own shooter.

"Max, can you count down for us?" Emily asked.

Max gulped, unsure of what to say or do. Emily, Rick, and Michael eyed him oddly. He realized that they were waiting on his answer.

"Max?" Emily was looking at him skeptically.

"O-oh!" Max then realized he'd hesitated, and snapped into action, laughing nervously. "Sure, yeah." He made his way (clumsily) to the dish base, amid the raised eyebrow of Michael and the steadily growing impatient Rick. He put on his game face, eager to count and revert back to his old ways. "3... 2... 1... one-half..."

"Max!" Emily scolded. The potential energy she'd saved was released at that one instance, causing her to tumble forward and nearly lose her balance. Her glasses flashed dangerously when she recovered. This was wrong ground to tread.

Max laughed, growing more comfortable at last. "Sorry, couldn't resist. I'll be serious this time, I promise. 3... 2... 1..."

Rick and Emily launched at the same time while yelling in unison, "GO! SHOOT!!!"  
Max found that standing in the line of fire was a bad idea, so he took a place sitting next to Michael, at the foot of the diamond. He soon noticed his attention was turning towards Emily, and the competitive aura that flowed through her whenever she battled. It seemed deadly, overpowering, but at the same time, gentle and understanding. She knew of her opponents' weaknesses, but had a bond with her Holy Beast, it seemed, which made her like a mermaid of the field.

Max couldn't help but stare. She was beautiful, she was so beautiful in her own simple way, dressed in a white lab coat with that spark in her eyes, Max wouldn't have it any other way. She was so natural Beybattling. He didn't feel she was more attractive anywhere else except for on the dish. She didn't need to dress differently or wear any make up or treat him in a different way for Max to still have these feelings.

"Go!" Emily yelled, encouraging her Blade forward.

His breath sharpened considerably at hearing her voice, his stomach somersaulted, his face burned, and suddenly he felt dizzy and light-headed. He took a deep breath - he'd come to the realization that he'd been holding his breath.

All of a sudden, the fight disappeared off of the face of the earth, and all Max could see was Emily. He knew he'd have to come to the point where he had to say something to her, but whatever it was to say, Max still didn't know. A crush was a crush, but these feelings were stronger. His heart felt as if it would explode, if she knew... If she knew, that was it. He would need an answer - but he realized he loved her to the point that an answer would just be enough. He would not force her. He couldn't. That wasn't his plan of action, and this was the first time he'd thought of it.

Yes. Max made up his mind. What was more wonderful than loving and being loved back? He wanted to grow old and die with this feeling in his heart. He would shoot the moon, just to feel that elated feeling. The crystalline feeling of elation, of a feeling of joy that was too special that no words describe it. A wonderful secret submerged in _his_ river. In a way he was like the Hudson itself, and that analogy couldn't have described Max better. How many times had he watched the river, the way the sun sparkled on its surface, just like diamonds, as well as the foreboding black waters at nighttime? The tranquility from watching from the walkway in Edgewater, the feeling of calm and righteousness watching from the George Washington Bridge, just so he could uncover its secrets?

Max was a river in these ways. He was a stream in others. He would see himself in a stream, the little trickle of water trying to work up to the name of the ocean, the center - and the start - of life. But somehow, the stream always managed to flow directly into the ocean, feeding it. The stream was its life source. Max's actions were his life source, but he almost always managed to go with the flow... and gradually, eventually, he was able to overcome them, and like the stream, live up to his name. If he failed, he would find an alternate - he would flow into a lake, which always keeps on growing and growing. And like the lake, Max grew. The water that had become a huge part of his life was his way of understanding things, and they made sense as they rang, bold and true, whether small like the stream, or giant like the ocean, neither one less important than the other in his mind. With his heart and the ocean in tune, he could almost hear the gentle rolling waves, the struggling waters lapping against the riverside cliffs, the faint, crystal sounds of the stream flowing hard as it could... Succeeding every time.

The stream that was his feelings for Emily worked hard to break the barrier, worked hard to overcome any obstacle that took him off course. _Keep swimming, Max_. The ocean is only a way away.

A low, pompous sounding voice reached his ears, trying to reach for him beneath the surface. "Max."

Said Max took this time to snap back into reality. "Wh-what?"

"You keep looking at Emily," Michael observed, his voice almost lazy.

Max tried to play dumb. "Wh-what makes you say that?"

Michael smirked. "The way you keep looking at her. Spill it, Max."

_Oh well,_ Max thought. Someone was going to find out eventually. Might as well tell.

"If I say something, will you promise not to say anything to anyone?" Max's voice was low, above a whisper, but still barely audible with the action occurring in front of him and Bladers practicing in other areas of the Training Room.

Michael blinked. Now he was interested. What was so important about Emily besides the fact that her hair was too ginger and she was too bossy for her own good? She'd lightened up in the past few years though... Oh. That was it. "You like her, don't you?"

Max jumped nearly a foot. His eyes were wider, rounder, and if it were possible, bluer. "How did you know?"

"So it's true," Michael mused. "You do like her. And I think it's more than that. How did _that _happen?"

Max looked down at his folded hands, a sadness hovering over him. "I really don't know. In Japan, all I could think of was Emily. I guess I missed being with the All-Stars so much." He separated his hands, curled them into fists. "But..."

"Go on," said Michael, bracing himself for the answer.

"I want to tell her about how I feel about her before the summer ends," said Max, his voice still soft and low, but with a new hint of determination in it.

"So do it," Michael said simply.

Max jerked his head up. Did he hear Michael correctly? Did he know how hard it was to come to grips with his emotions, let alone repeat them to another individual. This simple conversation with Michael was already turning his stomach into flutter. "Anyway..." Max said sadly. "That was why I came here in the first place. Even so, I don't know how I can or if I can."

"So you're going to sit here and just watch from afar?" Michael sneered. "I knew you liked defending yourself against anything that could harm you, Max, but I never knew you as being a coward."

Max was frozen. He wasn't a coward. Not ever. Not even when... "I'm not... You're wrong..."

"Admit it, Rick, I beat you fair and square," Emily said, elated with a new victory.

"You know it was because you caught me off guard with that new attack you've been practicing. I didn't know what it could do, and you won because of it. Any other day I would have won, and you know it." Rick argued. "I could beat you with my hands tied behind me back. No, sawed off."

Emily glared at him shrewdly. "A win's a win. And are you willing to take me up on that challenge?"

"I think Max would like to challenge you first," Rick observed, for Max had suddenly stood up very quickly (like lightning, really, which was more Rei's technique) and faced the victor with a hard look on his face.

'Faced' wasn't really quite the word. They were mere inches away from each other's face. She, however looked at him quizzically. He turned around and faced Michael, who merely nodded. _Come on, Max, say it._ I love... "I..." Oh, who was he kidding? "I... Great victory. I saw the whole thing."

Emily batted her eyelashes, flattered, yes, but a bit in need of personal space. "Thanks, Max." Her eyes lit up. "Did you see how Rick kept on deflecting my attacks? His strategy was almost like yours in that battle. It would have been over earlier, but Rick was taking on a very you course of action," she looked at Rick humbly, who winked and gave her a thumbs-up sign.

"Uh, yeah. But you beat him in the end," Max stammered, unable to catch his breath or remember any details of his battle. Rick grunted from behind him.

"That's right," she said slyly. "That's why I want to challenge you to a Beybattle."

"Wh-what?" Max managed to choke out. "Now? Here?" He realized he hadn't touched his shooter since he was in Japan. He was out of shape, and would need practice. A lot, with all things considered. A new attack? He wished he had paid more attention.

"No, not now. Before you leave, how 'bout. Or when you want to..." She winked. "Give me a call."

Max gave a sigh of relief. Rick, who was able to put two and two together, was silently bawling his eyes out in laughter along with Michael. Through Emily's back, he used body language to tell them to "SHUT UP ", smiled, then changed his gentle facial expression to look overly menacing, continuing with a grand, silent, yet very loud, "OR YOU'LL GET IT!"

Michael and Rick took a hint.

"We're going to find Eddy at the Basketball court. And Steve, too. At the football stadium, of course... They're probably playing, instead of actually Blading..." Michael said, his eyes almost dancing with amusement.

Max froze. "H-hey You can't... Not with..." he spluttered. He glanced at Emily, who still had the competitive spark in her eye.

"Oh Max, there you are." Dr. Judy came up into view.

Thank goodness. Max let out all of his breath at once in relief. "Oh, hi Mom... How did the meeting go?"

"I haven't gone to it yet, I've just made a bunch of preparations. I was wondering if I could drag you an Emily along with me as my assistants," said Dr. Judy.

Max flushed. He wasn't out of the woods yet. "Sure. We'll be glad to help. Right, Emily?" Saying her name was so easy, so pure, like a melody without words.

"Right!"

Max sighed. This wasn't as easy as it looked.

"Thanks, you two. Emily, hold my clipboard, Max, be ready for instructions. Follow me," Dr. Judy instructed, briskly trudging forward.

"Don't forget, Max," whispered Emily, relieving Dr. Judy of the clipboard. "You promised me a Beybattle."

"I won't," Max whispered back.

He froze, especially when his fingers accidentally brushed against Emily's when aligning herself with Dr. Judy.

Inside, Max felt a strange sensation. It felt as if his heart would burst with joy. In his brain, fireworks were exploding into a million lights, warm, and not violent in any way. He gave a soft smile, rather touched that she made him feel this way without even knowing it.

But something made his heart sink. He would NEVER have the guts to tell her how he felt. The 'why' part that would surely come wasn't clear even to Max. He played with the idea that they were teammates... They both had connections through his mother... They'd known each for so long and had grown so friendly among each other through the years - the four years they'd spent knowing each other. But even those reasons weren't plausible. Could he admit to her that the only reason he loved her was because he spent every minute of his time thinking of her, and imagining a life of them together? Could he tell her that every part of him felt obsolete, incomplete, wrong, when around her and not with her? That he would do anything to please her? Was it right, to say that whenever she spoke, no matter what the tone, he would feel a warm in his stomach and that every qualm that irked his mind would go away?

"Max?" Emily asked. Her eyes were furrowed and she looked at him suspiciously. "Are you alright? I noticed that you weren't as cheerful as usual. Is everything okay?"

_Hah, if only you knew,_ Max wanted to reply. He shook his head rapidly.

"Everything's not alright?" Emily looked even more puzzled.

_Damn_. "Everything's fine," he replied, a little to quickly, too nervously, and a little too fake-cheerfully. "I guess there's been a lot of things on my mind lately."

"Anything you need to talk about? Unlike the boys..." Emily turned her head and rolled her eyes at the Training room behind them, "I listen better than they do."

"Oh, no. I couldn't waste your time. I'm sure I can handle it on my own," said Max. _Close call there, Mizuhara. Talk to Takao and the others before you spill your gut and make a fool out of yourself._

Max's feet stopped, and he realized his mother and Emily had stopped as well.

"Sorry to cut your conversation short," Dr. Judy interrupted. "But we've arrived."

Max took a deep breath. This was a lot harder than it looked Thankfully, the meeting passed by a lot more smoothly than he thought it would. When he arrived home that evening his eyes were so strained and exhausted that he could barely see straight. It had been a hard day, as after the meeting he singled out Michael and the two of them were talking and practicing at the baseball diamond they had been residing at when Max first went to greet them. The events following the meeting couldn't have made him feel less of his teammates. He recalled them, bitter:  
_  
"Let's have a tag team battle," Eddy suggested. He glanced at Michael, who nodded, so Max assumed that Michael and Rick had informed him and Steve of everything that was going on. "Steve and I have already agreed to become partners."_

_Max eyed him wearily, why were his friends doing this to him? Almost immediately, Michael and Rick (despite their differences) wholeheartedly agreed to battle as a team._

_  
"It's just us then, huh, Max?" Emily said._

_Max nodded meekly._

_  
"So when is this tag team battle going to take place?" Emily demanded, her voice gaining in confidence and spirit._

_  
"Of course, when we've had time to practice. We're going after our toughest player, Max Mizuhara, after all," said Eddie graciously. Steve and Rick sniggered behind his back, and Michael looked like his birthday had come early.  
_

_"And how is it supposed to work?" Emily challenged. "There's only three teams."_

_"We have that all figured out," Steve said. "Each team battles twice in the first round. The two winners of that set proceed. If there's a tiebreaker, they keep playing until two teams are left standing."_

_Satisfied with the time frame and the setup, Emily nodded. "Sounds good. How does next week, same time, at Central Park sound?"_

_"Sounds... good," Michael replied, and the rest of the guys (minus Max) were bawling with laughter._

_"What's so funny? Are you laughing at how pitiful your defeat was?" Emily challenged._

_Rick smirked, Michael snorted, Eddie had to wipe his tears of laughter out of his eyes, and only Steve could give a plausible answer (laughing uncontrollably in between words), "Something like that. We're just glad to be a part of a team again, without our team leader half way around the world."_

_At this point, the other four boys took their time to bow down in worship to Max._

_"Hey... what are you..." Max stepped back nervously, as his male teammates looked like they were about to burst with amusement. They backed off though, but only after a minute or two._

_"What was that all about?" Emily rolled her eyes._

_Max gave a huge sigh following an intense stare, and Emily followed suit, matching his sigh groan for groan. That really was quite odd. Max knew they had good intentions... But could they be worse actors?_

* * *

  
_To be continued...

* * *

_

**Beyblade and co. are © Aoki Takao. Under no circumstances will I sell, reproduce, or claim the characters and key elements of this piece of original fiction as mine.  
**


	3. A Few Phone Calls

**Summer**

* * *

by Aestivate

* * *

Author's Note: There are instances in which I will change from "Max" to "Makkusu" or "Emily" to "Emili", as to show what language the person speaking is. They are merely Romanized versions of their name (from the Katakana), but I want to keep the Japanese and the English separate. All reviews going against my view of this pairing will be deleted, no questions asked.

**Most of this fic was written last year and I finally got around to do some hardcore editing. Forgive the lack of talent that comes with premature writing.**

* * *

Max picked up the phone and dialed the Kinomiya residence...

"Hello, this is Kinomiya Takao... No, Daichi, it's not the owner of the restaurant in town calling to take up your offer on buying his head chef... No, Hiromi, you haven't won a romantic dinner date for two... And besides, why would they call here if you've won something? It's not like it's your house or anything... NO, KYOUJU, IT'S NOT THE COMPUTER GEEKS FOR A BETTER TOMORROW PEOPLE!" Loud yelling ensued... Mostly on Takao's, Hiromi's and Daichi's part. "Sorry, this is Kinomiya Takao again. My friends are a little bit odd..."

Max grinned. "And you're not?"

"Hey it's MAKKUSU!" Takao exclaimed from the other line. "It's the Mizuhara kid. Where have you been, Makkusu? SHUT UP, Daichi!"

Max laughed. From the other line, there was:"Oh, it's Mizuhara Makkusu? Iwanttotalktohimiwantotalktohim! I didn't get to see him off, and I haven't talked to him in a while!"

"Honestly, Daichi..."

"Sorry, Makkusu," Takao said. "So how have you been?"

"Fine... I just... needed to talk to you guys. Who else is there?" Max checked his watch. Good. He still had twelve minutes.

"Just about everyone," Takao said. "Except for ojii-san, but who needs that old crackpot anyway?"

"Anyway," began Max, his tone growing more serious. "I have to talk to you. About Emily."

"What's wrong with her? Has her ego deflated? Has she suddenly given up Beyblading or tennis?" joked Takao.  
"No," Max hissed. "Stay quiet about this. I need help, Takao." And Max spent a good portion of five minutes, explaining his story and the tag team battle, and the whole confessing part...

When Max finished, his felt lightened. It felt good to talk to someone who wouldn't crack up with laughter. He took a breath, and it was much easier to draw air into his lungs. "Takao? Takao? Are you there?"

Everything stopped for a fraction of a second...

"YOU LIKE EMILI?!"

Max winced, holding the phone away from his ear. "I told you to keep quiet!" Max caught bits and pieces of the conversations that ensued afterwards.

"Oh, Emili and Makkusu. How cute... Makkusu is such a sweetie."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! But there's still Ming Ming-chan, I guess..."

Max tried hard to suppress a snicker, and he fared a lot better than the other side of the conversation did.

"Makkusu likes girls? Gross..."

"Uh, guys, it's not such a big deal..."

"Of course it is, Rei! Haven't you ever been in love? And _ahem_, DAICHI, I AM A GIRL."

"Obaa-san is... a girl?"

"SUMERAGI DAICHI!"

"Obaa-san... Why are you looking at me like that?"

"O-oi! Hiromi! Stop it before you break something!" A loud crashing sound symbolized that Takao had dropped the phone and joined into the fray.

Massaging his temple, Max waited patiently for another person to speak.

Surprisingly, it was Kai. The commotion could be heard among his voice.

"The only way you'll be able to tell her is if you think of your own strategies and your own style. The only way you can ever get through to what you want in life is to rely on yourself and stick to your gut. Think of it as a Beybattle..."

A new light dawned in Max. His face gradually broke into an incredible smile, and he said breathlessly and gratefully into the phone, "Thanks, Kai!"

"Don't lose, Makkusu. It'll be bad for your image," retorted Kai.

"Makkusu?" Apparently, Takao was now in possession of the phone.

"I'm sorry, Takao, but my mom set a limit of fifteen minutes and they're just about up," Max said. "Talk another time? Except you call me, instead?"

"Will do. Too bad we hardly got the chance to talk... I blame the others for that." Takao's voice trailed off, but the others had ganged up on him.

"Our fault? What are you talking about?"

"Explain, Takao..." said Hiromi in a low, menacing tone.

"I'm hungry - and it's all Takao's fault!"

"Hey... wait... guys, settle down! _Good luck, Makkusu_!"

The voices grew louder, and then a click told Max that Takao was in trouble. Sniggering to himself, he glanced at the clock, which read a little before midnight, give or take a few minutes. He'd called this late, because he wanted Takao to actually be awake when he called, for the sake of precious money used for long distance calls.

Feeling overly exhausted, both emotionally and physically, Max collapsed with a thud on his bed, but didn't fall asleep immediately. He stared at the ceiling with a faint smile, thinking of the day's events, both pleased and disappointed with himself for acting like a fool around her. How many times did he have to clam up before being able to talk to Emily comfortably, and with a straight face? How many times would he turn beet red, feeling like an idiot while making the weirdest statements? How much taunting would he have to put up with from his teammates? How many fish-eyes would he receive from both his mother and Emily? How many phone calls would it take, and reassurances from his friends until Max finally admitted his feelings?

And, worst of all, what would Emily's reaction be?

His head hurt again. It bothered him to no end, so Max crept out of bed and went in search of some Tylenol to help him go to sleep. Finding it almost instantly, he smiled with relief and washed down two tablets with gusto. With his senses dulled and with sleep gently nudging his eyes... Max eddied away from the world into the succumbs of a sleep with dreams of Emily.

* * *

Something about Max just wasn't right. Emily'd noticed when Max got off the plane and today, or yesterday, because she was up and it was dawn... Which was besides the point. He was different, in no ways bad, and in no ways good. He was odd, to put it quite frankly.

Something about him made Emily wonder.

What hid beneath the angelic smile?

Emily had asked herself this from the beginning. Even when things looked like they were going to fall apart, and that everything was going to go wrong - Max always had that smile. Optimism,

it would be known as by some, but Emily and her teammates knew a lot better. Max was hopeful, he always wished for a bright future.

She felt a secret joy in surprising him with her newly developed attack She was strong, she was competitive, and fierce. She wouldn't ever change. It was in her nature to be intense, to want to challenge, to analyze. But there was that something about Max that she could never find out... He was mysterious. She realized she hardly knew anything about him, even if he did wear his heart on his sleeve. The innocent ones always get you. Unlike the aloof Kai Hiwatari of Russia, Max was predictable in his movements and the way he acted - and yet not. What made Max truly happy? Beyblading, sure. But she didn't know and it would be hard to find out because he smiled at anything, whether it be a bad thing or a good thing. Was it a facade, or was he truly, insufferably happy?

What made him tick? Again, that infamous grin that hid everything from everyone. He made actions that everyone could figure out. But the reasons behind them were always a mystery, never known and yet overlooked because the surface things were more conspicuous.

That's how Emily would always be and grow up to become. Critical and analytical, with a fountain of ideas spouting from her brain. She only seemed loud and bossy because her mind worked at a faster pace than others, making calculations faster than the normal brain, thinking up the simplest, but most functional solutions to problems.. But when her solutions failed, that's when she did get angry. It stank to lose. Emily always wanted to be the best at everything, she was always burning that flame. She couldn't help but laugh at that. She wasn't perfect, no one was, no one could be. A girl could try, couldn't she? Especially a girl with tournament status in Beyblading, American, for one thing, and a set future and career. She was almost seventeen, going into the twelfth grade. She took her SATs already - coming out with a perfect score, of course, and was planning on applying to every college that she had in her sight and come out with an easy early decision. Then after she was finished, she'd return to the labs and then begin her internship, soon her job, then end with the rest of her life.

That was her life, planned ahead of her. That was her. Plans, statistics, numbers enough to make your hair as ginger as Emily's, trying to be the best at everything she did, playing tennis when she had time, working at her new attack and altering her weight disk until it worked to perfection, getting used to her new shooter rack, which was longer and accentuated skill her skill far more than her custom shooter. Her life was her Beyblading, her future would be the same way, and she knew Max's would be too, although her future was much more straight forward. Maybe _she_ was more obvious than she had given herself credit with.

Emily flopped back onto her pillow and rethought her future sullenly. It hadn't crossed her mind that a happiness that wasn't in the form of Beyblading had entered her plans at all.

She sighed, tucked her covers around her, glancing at the clock, the red numbers eerie in the dim light. It was early, far too early for anyone to be up. For some reason, her heart gave an odd twinge when she thought about Max. She was still eager to show her skills, prove that she could beat him no problem. She would not take failure for an answer. She wanted a clean, simple, fair, yet as honorable a battle as she could get. She wanted it to be clean because no one needed to be cheating. Not like they would, anyway, so that was a no-brainer. Simple because she wanted it just to be for the sport and to show off some talent, like the way current Beyblading was. She savored her Beyblade parts and strived for perfection, both mentally and physically. Emily knew it would be honorable. That was how the sport was. Defense of pride, defense of yourself, defense of your Beyblade. Offense of your pride, offense of yourself, offense of your Beyblade.

The only element of her "perfect Beybattle" Emily worried about was the fairness.

She knew that she and Max would work as hard as they could and be at their peak, physically, that was a given. Injuries were just casualties that could be accepted. But mentally, she wasn't so sure. Her stomach clenched. There was something wrong... Something about Max. And...

_BRIIIIING!_

She was so lost in thought she jumped when she heard the phone ring. Slipping on her glasses, she reached over and picked it up, the color of the phone in complete color synch with her eyes.

"Hello?" Her voice was raspy and weak, it was too early and she hadn't used it yet.

"Emily?" Who in the world would call her this early, anyhow? She had half a mind to tell the caller to mind his courtesy. She contradicted herself immediately when she realized she recognized the voice.

Her irritation softened. "Max?"

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry that I'm calling this early. But Mom says it's important, so... Anyway... My mother says she's got a day for all of us planned."

Emily cut him off. "I was up already, it's alright. You mean just for us? This 'day' you're talking about." If it were, it'd be a distraction, nothing but sun and sea, nothing productive being done. A vacation day would just ruin her training, too...

"N-no! It's for the entire group. To Atlantic City, she says. An entire day at the beach. She was thinking we have our mini-tournament there. She goes gambling for a day, we go Beyblading. A fair trade, I think. So can you go?" Was it her or did she feel tension in their conversation? She didn't like the way this was going. Still, an entire day at the beach sounded very tempting.

"Sounds great. What day?" Emily found herself asking.

"Wednesday. Ironically, it's the same day we set up for the tourney."

On the surface, Emily noticed (would her powers of observation ever be bested?), that Max's voice was shaky, not normal, and overall... Like he was hiding something. But what? She couldn't pry that far.

"Emily? Emily?" Max called.

"Oh... what? Oh, yes, I can go. Are you going to the Research Lab today?" Did she just ask...

"Uh, yeah, I am. To practice, you know," Max spluttered.

Emily felt a soft warmth radiate from her stomach. "I'm glad I'll see you later, ever since you've been hiding from us," Emily said, and the words came automatic, like she didn't even need to think of them. Her breath caught in her throat. What did she just say!? Why was she saying those things? She wasn't the sentimental type.

Max even knew it. His voice sounded vaguely winded and surprised as he replied, "Yeah. See you later."

He hung up and she listened to the empty line for a second more, reeling from their conversation.

Max was such a mystery, having the uncanny ability to draw these words she'd never dared to say before out of her. She put a scared hand over her mouth, as if closing it, making sure nothing unnecessary leaked from it again. She was lucky to have been able to hide feeling a sense of

elation when the only person to become a partner with was Max, back at the Lab. He was a great choice, their most capable Blader, a smart choice and a plausible one. She'd gotten the best

choice. She was a competitor, she'd do anything to her power that were in the books that she was allowed to do. Funny thing was, she hadn't thought a thing about his skill until now. Maybe it had come as just a given, as if saying, "Oh, Max is our best player, with him on my team we won't lose."

But something nagged at her and told her that it wasn't it. She was glad he was her partner. But why was she? Of course, her thoughts flooded back to being the best, but she hadn't thought about it, and no, she hadn't. She felt pity for him yesterday, unnecessary pity, pity shouldn't have had, but did. There was something about his eyes, the same color as the sea that made her doubts fly back to her. Yesterday was one of those rare moments where she saw Max's face downcast.

Light was filtering through the window, and a quick glance at the clock told her it was time to get up. She rinsed the sleeplessness out of her eyes, then took a quick look at her appearance in the

mirror. The first thing she noticed was her height. She'd always been short. She'll always be short. It was a way of life, but she was granted with infinite knowledge of science. But still. Compared to the giants that made up her team, she felt the most comfort with Max, who still, was a good bit taller than she was, would always be the next shortest. She liked her company. Wait, why was she thinking of him again?

Emily shook her head, nearly making her glasses fall off. Angrily, she shoved them up her nose and attempted to tame her hair. The ginger locks always looked as if they were on fire, and they were just as hard to control. At sixteen, she was a woman, and she wouldn't let herself be distracted like other 'women' her age, with boys, vanity, school work... Blinded by it all. She was, after all, guaranteed for college and the less trivial aspects of adulthood, just like Michael and the others had been when they graduated school. She thought of her senior year, and how it would be lonely walking the halls of Horace Mann without her teammates - her only friends - beside her. But she was a Beyblader, and like everyone else she knew that loved the sport as she did, she was a champion, someone with connections, guaranteed a future on easy-street. Something she had to work for, but she could cope.

With so much in store, it was definitely not the right time to keep thinking about the Director's son.

"What is it about him?" Emily mused. "He's always smiling, always so optimistic. A little too idealistic. He needs to wake up because this is reality," she concluded, trying to find a flaw. But even aloud, she sounded doubtful.

She sighed. _Let's not keep thinking about Max, alright? Crushes are stupid and you don't have one anyway. That's right. You don't even know the meaning._

That was true. She didn't.

* * *

At that moment, Emily wasn't the only one sighing from exasperation. So was Max, in a different apartment, many streets over, divided by an Empire State Building in between, and not knowing that in that exact moment, Emily's emotions emulated his own.

Call that coincidence, but Max would have to live through another day with Emily and tensing up and acting like a fool and not feeling cheerful. He wouldn't ever be completely happy, not the

way things were going. He wanted to tell Emily how he felt, he wanted her reaction (despite how worried about it he was), her response...

...Before the summer was up. He knew that was selfish, especially since he'd declared to himself that telling her was enough.

Max had about three weeks left, and the Atlantic City trip to look forward to next week, before the older ones had to head off to their various colleges. Not a lot of time, and Max made a silent vow to himself that he would, no matter what, admit to Emily, even if it took every ounce of his willpower and forcing the side of him that told him to "Run Away!" to shut up, so maybe, just maybe, the real Max could take control and utter, whisper, yell, "I love you!" to that certain petite.

It was much harder than he thought it would be. A summer here seemed like a lifetime, at least it was time he could spend with his mother. Max hated how he would be on one side of the world, and his mother and other things that mattered on the other. But he couldn't stay here. No. He still had to beat Takao somehow, and he wouldn't be able to stand it at the labs for too long with the

school year kicking off. If only everything he needed and wanted was at one set place, not one place and another forbidden one separated by land and sea.

As a child, he'd always wanted his parents to be united once more. He remembered when his parents were in love, together and happy and functioning. For fleeting moments, he saw the family.

But that was as a child.

Now, a man, functioning and whole and well, Max only saw one face peeking through the forbidding "other place", and the distance between him and her face was most tangible. Distance was a horrible thing. It had plagued him since childhood, and once the summer was up... Well, it would become a factor again. It wasn't a small world, on the contrary it was large and vast and even with all sorts of modern technology, could not be chartered.

_Distance was a horrible thing._ This thought burned through his mind as he got ready for another long day. He was unusually quiet at breakfast, Dr. Judy noticed, but this summer he was always unusually quiet, unusually solemn, unusually unenergetic. She expected she would have to get used to this new Max. She didn't dare say anything, what was worse than an overprotective mother?

She watched him through the view mirrors in the car whenever she got the chance. Those eyes just like the many forms of water. Flowing, flying, icy. Currently, they weren't either. They were the iron color of an untamed storm.

* * *

_To be continued..._

* * *

Beyblade and co. are © Aoki Takao. Under no circumstances will I sell, reproduce, or claim this piece of original fiction as mine. 


End file.
